


Morosexual

by anonymercy



Category: Ginga Eiyuu Densetsu | Legend of the Galactic Heroes
Genre: Character Death, Comedy, Gen, I guess???, M/M, Major Spoilers, Tags May Change, but that's honestly to be expected with this series isn't it, fritz is an idiot as usual, idk why i ship this but honestly just let me word puke, implied sexual relations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-03
Updated: 2018-04-03
Packaged: 2019-04-18 03:09:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,113
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14203731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anonymercy/pseuds/anonymercy
Summary: Post New Imperial Era: Because he's famously silent, Eisenach is privy to a lot of the high admirals' secrets. As the listening type, he's far more sensitive to certain dynamics between...interesting personalities. One day he becomes the unfortunate recipient of Muller's oddly out-of-character ramblings.Don't take this work seriously. Just don't.Spoilers and stuff.





	Morosexual

**Author's Note:**

> Oh my god it's been years since I've written anything, and it's all been on fanfiction.net. If you're coming here from DNT or haven't watched most of the show (though I'm not sure about the manga; haven't read it yet), DON'T READ THAR B SPOILS
> 
> From Urban Dictionary:  
> morosexual  
> A person that systematically pursues partners with IQ significantly lower than his/her own.  
> (opposite of sapiosexual)
> 
> Anywho, DO NOT TAKE THIS WORK SERIOUSLY. Bittenfeld's exaggerated idiocy is a headcanon, a HEADCANON (I think). Written from Eisenach's perspective. That is all.

Fahrenheit is dead.

I suppose that since Fahrenheit was originally a defector, he wasn't treated with as high of regard. In fact, it was the reason why he was dead that stirred more tensions amongst the ranks than his actual death itself--Bittenfeld. It was already established that the man was a short-tempered, dimwitted (albeit spirited and charming in a way) admiral, but this outcome could not help but worsen his reputation. People began to speculate (and perhaps rightly so) that the only reason his aggressive tactics worked was because the Kaiser gave him the most capable ships to pull them off with. It wasn't long before Bittenfeld, though still reluctantly welcomed by the other admirals and superficially respected for his rank, became socially isolated. Nobody wanted to associate with the newly-dubbed "idiot ginger," and people hoped that the lack of attention could maybe guilt-trip him into realizing the errors of his ways.

He didn't notice.

His effort to reconcile with the remaining members of Fahrenheit's fleet was to simply merge them together, but it took a long string of pushing and pulling before it was decided that they'd merge, mostly due to the incessant complaints from Fahrenheit's men. Nobody except the equally spirited men in Bittenfeld's fleet wanted to serve under Bittenfeld, really. I can't really blame them. Charging in to overwhelm the enemy, after all, was only a good tactic when it worked.

I took another sip of my coffee at my desk. Nothing major really happened with my own fleet, and I suppose that's for the best. All that was left for us to do was rest, resupply and wait for further orders. Either way, it left me with quite a bit of free time. I think I'll take a stroll around the capital building. It's not fresh air, but it'll keep my joints healthy after all the time we spend in space. The artificial gravity in our ships is only so sufficient, after all. Plus, it'll help me familiarize with the layout since we had just moved in.

Ah, there he is. Unexpectedly, I spotted Bittenfeld walking towards me in a long hallway that led to...empty dormitories? Why was he there? And someone was loosely holding his arm...Muller?! They spotted me walking towards them. I gave them a friendly wave, but they must have seen the brief confusion on my face. Muller frantically parted his mouth to explain--

"M-morning, High Admiral. We were just--"

"HEY, Ernst!" Bittenfeld cut in, out of either covering for Muller or out of (more likely) a lack of knowledge in conversational pace.

"Neidhart here was just askin' me uh, TIPS, on how to be better on the offensive!"

Huh?

"You see, remember how he's got his nickname, Ironshield Muller? I told him the other day that it's no good to only be good on defense! No matter how good your defense is, you can't win without ever being good at offensive tactics! So yeah, we uh..."

Both of their faces flushed a tad. Muller started sweating.

"Haha, uh..., I mean, I decided to take him under my metaphorical wing and teach him some of my fleet's mighty examples in combat!"

Bittenfeld gave out a small, relieved sigh, and I looked over at Muller. His lips were...pursed...no, wait. Was he biting one? Was he nervous?

"Anyways, see you!" he practically shouted, putting an arm over Muller's shoulder and waving.

"Enjoy your walk," Muller added meekly as we went our ways.

I suppose because Muller was a pleasant man who preferred to support people instead of being on the offense, Bittenfeld's forward personality left him with the thankless task of being his only friend. No wonder he has a head full of gray hairs that clashed his young face. Well, it didn't bother me, and I let the incident slip out of my mind until a month or so later, after our Kaiser agreed to a ceasefire with the forces at Iserlohn.

We celebrated, but only superficially so. The Kaiser's greatest rival was no more, and his sheer disbelief and disappointment seeped into the high admirals' faces. We were gathered at a small lounge in the capital, and as usual, I took a seat at an empty table with a bottle of brandy and brought up a game of AI chess. Mecklinger, Mittermeyer, Kessler and Reuenthal gathered at a table near me. Bittenfeld and Muller were seated at a nearby couch.

I lost track of time immersed in my game, but at some point Bittenfeld must have excused himself, possibly to use the restroom. Muller came over, not to the main table, but to mine. He sat down wordlessly and watched me play for a few minutes. Perhaps he wasn't used to silent companionship as I was, but he was visibly squirming. After enough time he leaned in a bit closer and quietly spoke.

"Hey, Fritz wants to say thanks for not saying anything about the time you found us in the hallway." He paused to emphasize that he had relayed the message word for word. I stifled a smirk.

"But in all seriousness, thank you for not doing anything."

I nodded at him. Naturally. It wasn't my duty to spread gossip anyhow, no matter what methods I used. Muller watched me play a bit longer before finally gathering the courage to say,

"Can I let something off my chest at you?

"You don't have to listen; I'm sure you're tired of things like this already."

Ah, of course that's why he came over here. Because noone has heard my voice in years, people started to naturally come to me to confess secrets out of some unfounded trust in my reticence. At this point, if someone heard me speak they would probably flip as though the Iserlohn fortress warped through space and rammed into Phezzan. I readied to tune him out, until--

"It's about my relationship with Fritz."

Oh, this might actually be interesting. Relationship, he says? I continued to play, avoiding eye contact to feign inattention. Somehow, my pretending to be uninterested only made him even more open about what he said. But it proved to be difficult to keep my nonchalant composure right off the bat when he said, in a low voice but most certainly through gritted teeth,

"He's an  _absolute moron!_

"I can't believe he  _still_ hasn't noticed our relationship has been nothing but sex! And what's worse, I think I'm actually attracted to how much of an  _idiot_ he is!"

Oohhh boy. So he  _was_ biting his lip after all.

"Can you believe him?! It's been an entire month of him trying to coach me on how to be better at offense, when in reality he just chases whichever fleet is the smallest like a dog after a shiny car! The only reason he even gets away with  _half_ the things he accomplishes is because the Kaiser gave him the best ships in the entire Imperial fleet!

"The other day I asked him, 'Well, then what would you do if surrounded by a fleet of equal size but of equal speed and better tactics?' and you know what he said?

"'I'll just have to be faster and better than him.'  _Oh,_ mein  _Kaiser_ ,  _PLEASE_ help this man! And so I said, 'Well, what if, even if you pushed your fleet to the limit, and that equal-size fleet still somehow proved to be faster and more organized?'

"He  _shrugged_ and said, 'Guess I'll just have to die honorably, then.'

"The idea of retreat never even  _crossed_ his mind because of the lack of size difference between the fleets!

"What's worse is, before I even knew it, my shirt was off and I had tackled him inside a library corridor!

"He's such an absolute  _blockhead_!

"The only reason he even hates Oberstein is because he overheard Reuenthal and Mittermeyer's discussion for a minute, and they never even disclosed why they suspect him! Fritz hates Oberstein just because some other people say they dislike that man!"

At this point I glanced over, and Muller's hand was already firmly clasped over his forehead. It was a sight to behold--a man known for his loyalty and quiet yet strong devotion, in complete shambles over a colleague. Reuenthal, who was sitting at his table in the seat closest to us, momentarily looked over at the mention of his name. If Muller raised his voice in exasperation any higher, the entire lounge would probably be able to hear him. I lent a hand on his shoulder to hopefully calm him down. Please, just calm down. Everyone knows Bittenfeld's an idiot; there's no need to get so worked up over it, though the sexual attraction to his subpar IQ is quite...worrying.

However, this backfired.

"You don't understand! I can't calm down; the man's an absolute  _ape_ and, and--

"...

"Gah! It translates  _phenomenally_ into the bedroom! He's even built like one! With his, his, brawny arms and, and--

"Did you know he once shaved his chest hair into a  _triangle_ because made it him more, and I quote, 'space-dynamic' so he'd feel even more confident in his spearhead attacks?!

"He proudly displayed it to me, completely naked, buzzer in hand!

"It was the most moronic, yet  _sexiest_ act of the century!

More heads were turning. The conversation at the main table, the only source of noise that would drown out Muller, nearly halted. Muller completely ignored my hand on his shoulder, so I took it off. I considered standing up and leaving so he'd stop drawing attention to himself. I wasn't particularly embarrassed about the situation, but if knowledge of homosexual relations between admirals came out, it'd destroy this poor man. That being said, however, all of us were relatively close, as we'd known each other for years at this point. The chain of gossip would, thankfully, end in this room. I decided to stay.

"I  _hate_ that I find his simple personality cute! No, even  _charming!_ What is wrong with me?!

"Have you heard what he once said when he was loudly denouncing Oberstein while walking two meters behind him?!

"'There's a tradition in the Bittenfeld family! When you praise someone, you do it loudly...when you denounce someone, you do it even louder!'

"He has no regard whatsoever for his words or actions! Pardon my phrasing, but the man gives absolutely zero fucks! I'm both envious of  _and_ smitten by that fact!"

"There are times where his bullheaded antics and unfounded, endless confidence just rub off on me, and at that point I just want to rub off at him instead! I can't even--

" _Ahem._ "

Muller whipped his head around, suddenly aware of the silence that had fallen around us. The source of the sound was Ferner, Oberstein's late assistant. He kept his hand near his mouth and looked down, clearly smothering embarrassment. In the doorway next to him was Bittenfeld himself, wide-eyed and a mix of both aghast and confused. Oh my god, he had gotten lost on his way back from the restroom and met Oberstein somewhere along the way.

The air was dense with what had just perspired, but somehow Bittenfeld was first to break the awkward silence. Though I'm nowhere near Muller's level of enthusiasm, thank the heavens for men like him.

"I'm bullheaded? And you want to rub that?"

He paused, still staring in disbelief as he tried to collect the words appropriate to his emotions.

"Neidhart, are you possibly...mad at me?"

He _had_ heard the entire sentence loud and clear, right? Muller suddenly slammed both hands onto our table and stood up.

"No Fritz, I could never be angry at you," he said through pursed lips, with absolutely no note of sarcasm. Oh no.

Swiftly, he ran over to the idiot ginger, grabbed his arm and fled the room in a hurry. What his hurry is based around, however, I'm not entirely sure. Maybe I just don't want to think about it. It was only after about an hour did Muller come back. He avoided everyone's gaze and sat back down next to me. His uniform was on, yes, but clearly hurriedly thrown on, and his hair was a disheveled mess that he had attempted to pat together into some remotely neat form. I raised an eyebrow at him.

"...

"...

"...

"...Fritz is taking a nap right now."

He didn't speak a word about it afterwards, not even after all the other admirals had left, and not even during any other time afterwards he found me alone, playing chess by myself. However, sometimes I still catch a glimpse of them roaming the hallways near the unoccupied dormitories.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks and god bless you for making it through this. I headcanon this dynamic so hard I just...don't even know what to do with myself anymore. I in no way am trying to offend anyone by the way, if using the term ginger or my depiction of Muller's questionable attraction to features of idiocy seems like a predatory act, uh...let me know. I'm sorry in advance?
> 
> At one point I opened Microsoft Paint instead of Notepad to write this. Please help me.
> 
> By the way, have you guys seen that video game promotional image of Fritz and Olivier in swim attire? It's in Japanese, though. gOD what an aPE i love him


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